


There Is No Such Thing As Bad Last Words

by Sepharim7



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson-centric, Bombs, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Implied Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Psychological Trauma, Submarines, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29818992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sepharim7/pseuds/Sepharim7
Summary: The submarine was hit badly. In fact, it was sinking. As its captain, Percy is responsible for making sure everyone escapes safely, but this inevitably leads to him being trapped inside with no way forward and no way back. Meanwhile, the ghost of a girl, or the Demon Girl as he likes to call her, is desperately trying to help him, one way or another. When Percy’s fate becomes sealed, however, there’s nothing left to do but to comfort each other.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Charges from Above

“Enemy’s headed straight at us, Captain! Full speed!”

The blood pounded in Percy’s ears so hard he could feel it. The tight confines of the twisted metal cage he called home for the past 7 months tensed up until he almost wanted to suffocate. He wiped the sweat collecting at his brow and stared sternly at the lookout, a boy of only 20 years named Will. 

“How close?” 

“Two miles, sir!”

No, no, _no._ “Dive, now!”

A flurry of bodies moved around him. Muscles strained to force the tons of steel into the watery depths. Soon, he began to feel the slight weightlessness as the submarine began to sink as fast as she could go. The ship could go a maximum of about 45 knots. His submarine could dive at a maximum of 8.5 knots. If his calculations were correct…

“You’d never make it deep enough. The waters are too shallow,” came a soft voice.

Percy didn’t even need to turn around to know who _she_ was, not that he wanted to. The blonde demon that tortured his every waking second ever since he stepped foot onto this cursed vessel. He could already imagine her so clearly. Her perfect curls would have sat perfectly on her old-fashioned nightgown. Undoubtedly, she would have perched herself somewhere that was decidedly _not_ a seating area, the edges of her nightgown damp and dripping on his otherwise perfectly dry equipment and floors. Of all things holy, he hated that dripping noise.

What infuriated him even more was that only he could see her. Only he could hear that drip, drip, drip. His own personal Hell.

“Not now _,_ ” he growled under his breath. She might have been next to him or across the length of the submarine, but she still would have heard him.

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

Percy swirled around. She was right behind him. She was so close that he could feel her breath. He stared into lively grey eyes, such a stark contrast to the slight translucency of the rest of her face, obscuring any fine details. She stared back just as defiantly.

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” he nearly spat. “For once in your miserable existence stop talking for once and let me do my job!” He looked at his watch, then looked up and barked out, “Brace yourself!”

His men, brave men, all cowarded under metal tubes and coverings, holding onto them from above their heads for dear life, arms not quite locked straight but not quite bent. As he stared at each and every one of his crew, Percy couldn’t help but think they half resembled surrendered prisoners and half resembled the crucifixion. He felt a cold breeze beside him, and there was the woman again, gripping the bars as if her life was in danger too. He wasn’t even sure if she could even die, but the way her muscles tensed and her eyes squeezed shut, he didn’t question that she could at the very least feel what they all felt.

He always hated to agree with the perpetually smug demon, but she was right. There was no way they were deep enough to avoid any damage.

They all waited with baited breath. No one moved a muscle, all hearts beat as one. Then…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The depth charges released by the ship rattled the submarine as if it were a toy, lurching the crew off their feet. These bombs were set to go off at certain depths, as a sort of sick battleship guessing game of ‘where is the submarine?’ Only they didn’t need to hit them directly. A charge going off close enough could use the water to punch and damage them just as effectively.

And there was nothing they could do about it but wait and pray. That’s what Percy hated most. There was nothing to see, nothing to fight. Just silence until the next attack.

_Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name—_

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

_— And leave us not to temptation but deliver us from Evil._

BOOM!

The ship made a second, then third, then fourth pass. Each time releasing more charges until there were no more to give.

Baited silence slowly faded into hope. After ten minutes, Percy released a sigh of relief, only to hear that incessant, wet dripping noise again. He turned to see the demon, the perfect picture of calm, save for the slightly pursed lips. Something made him snap.

“Can’t you control that dripping? Change out of the gown or something.”

She refused to look at him, simply staring straight ahead. “That’s not me.”

What.

His chest froze over even before he felt the icy waters soak into his shoes. It reflected nothing back at him but black despair and the dripping turned into a roar. The lights flickered. The siren protested but fell on deaf ears. If he paid attention, there was a subtle sinking feeling. His men stared back at him, wide-eyed. No one moved, save the engineer — Leo, Percy remembered — who heroically spurred himself to look at the equipment.

“The engine room’s been compromised. We’re sinking!”

At that moment, the submarine lurched as they hit the bottom, throwing the crew like rag dolls. 

Percy stared straight ahead, eyes almost unseeing. “Evacuate everyone to the escape hatches.” 

In a flurry of movement, the men filed towards the escape hatches at the top of the submarine. They all crowded up the ladder to the inner escape chamber, shoulder to shoulder. If he were to guess, only 25 people of his hundred and some men could fit in there at once. After the inner chamber was the outer escape chamber. The doors locked four equipped men inside and filled with water, equalizing the pressure and allowing the hatch to open. Once the men were out, the doors would close, drain of water, and be ready for the next four men.

At several points, the doors between the inner and outer chambers stuck, and the men went wild. Each time, they managed to open them again, but then tension still hung in the air. Percy watched as they all slowly emptied the hallway. He climbed into the inner chamber with the last few men. The blonde demon followed him closely.

“Captain, you should go.” Percy looked up to see Nico, only a boy of 21, staring at him. Already in the outer chamber and suited up were three men. Two were looking curiously at Percy. Will stared at the floor.

“Percy, I think you should get in,” the girl murmured at his right. He had almost forgotten she existed.

Percy shook his head. “I’ll come right after. You go ahead.”

Nico squinted at him. “You know that whole Captain-down-with-the-ship is stupid, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So go.”

“No. I take care of my crew.”

“Stop being a righteous idiot and just _go!_ ” the demon girl all but screamed in his ear. Percy ignored her.

Nico shook his head. “I’m not scared of dying you know.” Percy glanced at Will, who looked positively green. A second ticked by, and then another.

“Get into the chamber, Private. That’s an order.”

The door closed, and the water rushed in. Percy sat alone as he listened to the water drain.

“You should have listened to him,” the girl muttered darkly. 

“He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Percy stood up, walked to the door latch, and tugged. It didn’t budge.

“And so did you.”


	2. Dizzying Revelations

The escape door latch had not budged in the last 30 minutes, and Percy’s muscles were beginning to scream from the exertion. He ignored the demon girl’s insistence that he give up until she threw her hands up in defeat and stormed to the other side of the room, muttering something about thick-headed captains. Still, the door latch remained closed, and unfortunately, Percy’s stubbornness was no match for the door’s.

After double-checking that the door to the main hallway was secure and shut tightly against the filling submarine, Percy finally admitted defeat. There was no way forward and going back would be a suicide mission as soon as he stepped foot into the neck-high watery halls. He could do nothing but wait.

"Someone's going to come for us," Percy reasoned. "My men won't leave us behind."

The demon girl hummed in disbelief. 

He sighed. “Why are you here?”

The demon girl shrugged her shoulders and leaned against the metal wall. “I thought you’d like the company.”

They stayed there in silence. Percy could barely hear the dripping of her nightgown over the roaring water running down the hallway. He shifted on his spot on the floor. The cool steel was beginning to warm up with his body heat.

He glanced back up at her. “No really, why are you here? Are you here to guide me to Heaven?”

She shrugged again and looked up at the ceiling. “Something like that.”

Percy jerked his head up. “Wait, really?” And here he thought she was a demon coming to haunt him and make his life miserable. Well, no, she could still be a bad omen. He stared at her suspiciously. “So you’re not here to drown me to my death?”

“If I were, I’d be doing a terrible job of it telling you to go into the escape hatch first, wouldn’t I?” She slowly slid to the floor until they were eye level yet fixated her eyes on the ground between them. The curls partially obstructed her face. “Sometimes, when we need help, we ask for it. Other times, some people need help whether they’d like it or not.”

A beat.

“I’m not scared of dying you know,” Percy said.

He swore that, behind the curtain of hair, her mouth twitched. “Oh?”

“Nope.”

“Mhmm. I was.”

“What happened?”

“Drowned. I was on a ship. It crashed in the middle of the night. I tried to swim, but it was so cold.”

Percy slowly took her whole appearance in, shame slowly sinking in. “Your nightgown.”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “I would change out of it if I could, believe me. It annoys me almost as much as it does you.”

He forced a smile. “I see.” Then, “What ship?”

“I…” She shook her head, as if to rid a particularly bad thought. Percy stared at the way her curls bounced. They were perfectly dry but her nightgown was wet. Where’s the logic in that? He subtly dug his fingers into his palm and blinked a few times to bring himself back to reality, forcing his eyes to meet hers.

“It was called the Kronos Luxury Liner,” she began again. “It was so big, you could run from one end to the other and get tired before you reached the end...”

“Did they give you a proper burial?” Somewhere during her story, they had ended up sitting against the same wall. Only the emergency lights were now on, and unfortunately, that meant no heating system. Despite her being a ghost and all, she did generate a little warmth.

The demon girl tugged on one of her curls and let it spring back into place. “There was no one left to bury me. What you would consider my family had already left me for dead, and the people I considered my real family were all on the ship with me.”

Percy nudged the air where her shoulder would have been. “When I get out of here, I’ll make sure to get you a proper tombstone and everything.”

“Yeah?” She hesitantly offered him a watery smile.

“Yeah.” He paused for a second and frowned. “What’s your name?”

“Annabeth Chase.”

“Well, Ms. Chase, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Captain Percy Jackson at your service,” he mocked in his most pretentious formal tone, reserved only for the equally most pretentious mandatory banquets. He held his hand out.

“Charmed, Captain Jackson,” Annabeth returned, hovering her hand above his. They slowly and clumsily raised their hands to Percy’s lips to kiss the air around her hand before being reduced to a giggling fit.

“I’ll get you the prettiest tombstone money can buy,” he vowed. “And the first chance I get, I’ll sail to the spot and throw you flowers. Any type you want. In fact, I’ll come every year with a different flower until there aren’t any more flowers left.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise. Percy mentally kicked himself. No one said a word until, barely audibly, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Despite their situation, Percy couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

He drummed his fingers impatiently against the floor. They hadn't spoken in a while to conserve oxygen and energy. How long has it been, an hour? Three hours? The room was a little bit colder and the air a little bit heavier. His body, on the other hand, burned. A light fog settled all around his head, but through it all, reality was settling in as bright as a lamp in a dark night.

"You know, this is totally unfair."

Annabeth gave him a sympathetic look. "It is. Now shhh."

Percy shuffled his feet jerkingly, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Why are you just ok with this? You shouldn’t be ok with this!"

She stared sharply at him for a second before looking away and shrugging her shoulders. Although he could not place why, that action alone irritated him to no end. "It was 20 years ago." As if that explained anything, much less everything.

"Still! Why did you deserve to die?" Percy ran his fingers through his hair. "Why should I die? What have I done that warrants all of this? Why didn’t I insist on going ahead? Why didn’t I listen to you? I should have listened to you."

He roughly rubbed his face with his hand. Annabeth looked at him helplessly. Her hand started toward a hug, but she stopped herself short, instead placing her hands neatly back on her lap. 

"Why did you take this job?" Percy murmured through his fingers. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen slightly. “I’m sorry?”

“Why did you take this job when you can’t save me?” he bitterly clarified.

“Because I thought I _could_ save you.”

“Well that ended in a huge success didn’t it.”

“Don’t blame this on me when you just basically threw your life away. If you’re going to be so gentlemanly, don’t complain when this is your consequence.”

“I didn’t know I was going to _die_.” Percy threw his hands in the air and stood up to pace around the tiny room despite Annabeth’s indignant protests. “Excuse me for thinking the door to work perfectly as well as it had been all the other times. If you would’ve just told me about my imminent doom in the first place, things might have gone differently!” With those last words, he slammed his fists on the escape door.

The ring of metal echoed. The sound seemed to stir something in Annabeth, who leapt to her feet and marched herself squarely in front of Percy.

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to come up and say, ‘Hey, I’m a drowned ghost, and you will be like me too! I’ll be your mentor for the next couple months as I try to prevent you from dying! But don’t get your hopes up because it’s inevitable and going to happen one way or another!’” she screeched. Percy had never heard such an irritating sound quite like her voice. 

"You don't know that!"

They stared each other down. Their chests moved heavily, his out of emotional exertion and hers out of habit. In the months they had been torturing each other with the other's company, Percy had never been this close to the ghost before. Her breath warmed his face, and her burning grey eyes seemed to glow from the reflected emergency lights. From here, through his desperate and angry haze, she almost looked solid, human even.

With as little ferocity as she could manage, (which in retrospect, Percy was very impressed she had restrained herself enough _not_ to strangle him on the spot, ghost or no,) she hissed, "I was in your place once."

She stared up at him, daring him to respond. He stared her down with nothing to say but an internal, frustrated scream and hoped his eyes communicated the depth of the malice he wished upon her, enough at least so that it counted as having the last word.

At some point, both human and ghost retreated to their respective corners of the small cold room, refusing to even acknowledge each other and permitting only their fury to keep them warm. Percy’s anger made his head hurt.

Then, it wasn’t long before his head _just_ hurt. 

That was only half an hour after. No, maybe two? Time at his point muddled his brain. He felt every valve of his veins open and closing to the pulse of his heart, and when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the black throbs of his blood.

It reminded him of the first time he flew. Oh, it was exhilarating, but despite the open air, the thin air squeezed him, reclaiming what was theirs straight from his lungs. Here was the same squeezing feeling. No matter how much he breathed it was never enough.

“You should lay down.”

Percy looked up to see Annabeth staring sympathetically at him. “Yeah,” he panted, barely able to breathe the word out. “Yeah. Good.. idea.” And proceeded to tilt over and collapse on the metal floor. He vaguely acknowledged the pain in his shoulder but that was nothing compared to the rest of him. Outside pain was no problem. He could handle outside pain. Inside pain was much worse. No point of contact. No origin. Except the poisonous air that he breathed. And it wasn’t like he could stop breathing. Everything swam in and out of focus. And his thoughts became dizzingly dizzy.

Later--he had stopped even trying to figure out the ‘when,’ and only focused on the ‘what’ that his brain seemed only capable of processing--he found his head on Annabeth’s lap. Through the sluggishness and the pain, electricity sparked between two brain cells.

“Touching,” he slurred. “Help me fix the hatch.”

She stroked his hair. It felt nice. And sad. “Shhh, I still can’t.”

He sat there. Thinking. “Why not?”

“I can’t move anything. You know that, Percy.”

“Touching,” he said, jerkingly waving around a clay-like arm. They both ignored how he smacked her on the face. Purely accidental. “We’re touching.”

“Shhh,” she soothed. “Let’s not talk about it right now.

The short shallow breaths made it hard to speak, but he persisted. “Can’t guess. Just tell.” 

Through the haze, Percy clearly saw Annabeth’s sad, hesitant smile as she resumed stroking his hair.

“I think,” she whispered softly, “it has more to do with you than it does with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 4:30 am on a fairly dark Sunday morning. My first final exam is on Monday. I should really be studying, but instead, here I am, writing this out. Wonderful. If there's anyone who knows anything about the medial temporal lobe, please send help. I so desperately need it.
> 
> But, in other news, I kindly thank you for reading. It's been a while (a few years!) since I've written anything, and I'm kind of rusty. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did researching and writing. This short story was a little longer than I had planned, so there will be an additional Chapter 3. After that, I was planning on doing a "deleted scenes" chapter. Thought it might be fun.
> 
> In any case, stay safe and I wish you all the best.
> 
> ~Sepharim


End file.
